


What Happens in Vietnam

by literarytrash



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Inspired by The Umbrella Academy, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, M/M, The Umbrella Academy (TV) Spoilers, Umbrella Academy - Freeform, Vietnam War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:13:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25724923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literarytrash/pseuds/literarytrash
Summary: This is an ongoing series of some moments I've thought up between Klaus and Dave in Vietnam. It's not all sunshine and rainbows, but it's a more in-depth look into their relationship that I'm enjoying writing right now. As we all buckle in and wait the indetermined amount of time for s3, these fics might help pass the time. Enjoy!
Relationships: Dave/Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 21
Kudos: 63





	1. Chapter 1

"Hey, Klaus, hey, shh. It's okay, you're okay." 

I woke up with a hand on my shoulder, and I jumped back, thinking it was one of the soldiers in my dream and suppressing a scream. But it was just Dave, and his eyes weren't dead and lifeless like the soldiers', but clear and kind and worried. He reached out his hand again, and I let him scooch up next to me, the bunk way too small for both of us but I didn't protest. I was freezing, and sweating and shaking and I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, and I thought Dave could probably hear it, too. 

"Are you okay?" Dave asked quietly, and he offered me his hand, which I took and pressed against my chest. We stayed like that until my pulse slowed, and Dave moved his arm so it was around my waist, hugging me to him.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, still kind of shaking but more embarrassed than anything. "I just have… I don't know, dreams sometimes, I guess. Always have." 

Dave nodded, and leaned over so his cheek was pressed against the top of my head. I closed my eyes, trying to make myself tired again but just seeing flashes of the battle scene, over and over and over. I wanted to be still, to stay like this with Dave forever, but I really, really couldn't manage it right now without screaming. So I swung my legs off the bed, grabbing my bag and squeezing Dave's hand once more before I practically ran out the door of the cabin and around to the back, where I always went to light up. 

I had just sucked in a lungful of weed-which was the only drug that wasn't codeine that I could find in Vietnam so far-when I heard someone walk up behind me. I looked away as Dave sat down next to me, shaking my head. "You don't have to come out here. I know you can't stand the smell." 

"I don't mind," was all Dave said, and he let me finish my blunt in peace, which I appreciated. I was breathing so much easier now, and everything was foggy and muted and how I liked it. I was tingly all over, and I couldn't feel my heartbeat anymore, and I knew I had a dazed smile on my face. But despite all these buffers, I knew Dave had been lying; he absolutely did mind.

"Can I ask you something?" Dave finally spoke, drawing shapes into the dirt at our feet. He had put his boots on over his uniform pants; I was still barefoot. 

"Absolutely, shoot." 

Dave didn't look at me as he asked, "Why do you do that? I mean, do you have to, or, I don't know. I just don't get it, I guess." 

I sighed, wishing I wasn't high as a kite when I had to answer this question. "I think I do. I actually don't know, it's been, God, it's been over a decade since I was completely sober. Ha! Can you believe that?" I giggled, tracing my fingers lazily over Dave's arm, which was still moving and making lines in the sand with a stick. Dave wasn't laughing, though, which made me stop. I guess it wasn't funny to him. 

We were silent for a little while, and I started humming a song somewhere along the way. Dave liked when I sang songs; he never knew them or who they were by, and that was always fun for me because he didn't know how badly I was messing them up. 

"Have you tried?" 

"Hm?" I asked, losing my place in the song. "Tried what?" 

Dave glanced up at me. "Being sober? Just for a little while? I know it's hard, addiction, I just think-" 

I was already shaking my head. "I can't, Dave, I can't deal with it, with the voices and the peo-" I stopped myself midsentence, realizing what I'd just said, and internally kicking myself for sounding insane. I'd done so good so far, not letting Dave know they were anything but nightmares, and now I went and gotten high and fucked it all up. _Shit shit shit he's gonna think I'm crazy now shit- ___

__"Voices? Like screams?"_ _

__I stared at him. "Uh, yeah, exactly, actually. Soldier's screams, the dying and the pain and the, just, everything. Y'know."_ _

__Dave was nodding, surprisingly, and I was just staring at him, slightly stunned that he wasn't laughing at me and slightly distracted by how he looked in the moonlight. He seemed sad, and when he looked at me, his eyes were glistening._ _

__"Klaus, this war, it's awful. It's a godawful thing and it affects us all, hurts us all. If this-" he gestured in my general direction, "is what you have to do, okay. That's okay, I understand. But there are other ways to deal with it, too, sometimes."_ _

__I nodded, encouraging him to continue. I was hyperfocused and a little dizzy, but what he was saying intrigued me. "What do you do?"_ _

__Dave smiled slightly. "This. You. You gave me something to hope for, amidst all this. You're fun and you're interesting and talking to you helps me forget about all the bad stuff, you know? Everything around me is ugly and evil and then there's you, Klaus. You're pretty and good and you make me believe there's an end to all this suffering." Dave stopped, noticing that I was crying and laughing a little, and he laughed, too. "You're so high right now."_ _

__I nodded, wiping at my face. "I am, but it's going away. This is nothing. I can stop. I can stop for you, Dave." Dave shook his head, and I kissed him, deeply and for so long I wondered if I was dizzy from the weed or him. I laid back, breathing heavily, and Dave leaned back, too, his hand playing with my hair and lulling me into a soft, almost-sleep._ _

__"I love you, Klaus," I heard him whisper, and I almost thought maybe I hadn't heard anything at all. But I answered anyway, just on the off chance I wasn't imagining things for once._ _

__"I love you, too." My voice was whispery and didn't sound like my own, but it was there, and I hoped he heard me. I needed him to hear me._ _

__I'd meant what I'd said more than I'd meant anything in my life._ _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains alcohol consumption, so please be cautious if need be! This is a deeper, more feels-y chapter, but overall one of my favorites to write so far! Hope you all like it:)

The shakes got bad over the next few days, and I barely slept, which, in terms of being a soldier, was a death sentence waiting to happen. I knew Dave noticed; obviously, everyone noticed, I wasn't exactly the most discreet person in the world. I had people offer me drugs, offer me any way of escape, and I got so close to accepting it some days that I was worried I'd never be fully sober again. 

Once, the ghosts got so bad that I did break down. We were all at a bar, and it was a lot like the first time I'd kissed Dave, right up until the bar became so packed I started having a full-blown panic attack. It wasn't packed with just real people, either; there were just as many people having the time of their lives as there were people with bullet holes ripped through their chest, bleeding from shrapnel and burns and rot and decay and everything in between. My vision blurred, my heart started pounding, and the next thing I knew I was outside in an alleyway, sitting on the ground in a corner with a half-empty bottle clutched to my chest. 

I still don't really know how Dave found me; I had been hiding pretty well, and the only lights came from the flashing ones inside the bar, so I was mostly in shadow. But he sat down next to me anyway, and we stayed silent as I continued to periodically sip from the bottle, my gaze not wavering from the brick wall in front of me. 

Eventually, Dave eased the bottle from my hands, and I stood up, throwing up everything I'd eaten that day into the dumpster a few feet away. Dave caught me when I stumbled back, and stroked my hair as I laid halfway in his lap, my vision spinning. 

"Your hair's gotten long." 

I smiled, mustering a nod, and focused on his hands, rather than the too-bright lights and the screams I could still hear echoing in my head. 

"Is it bad?" Dave whispered, and I nodded again, unable to shut my eyes without seeing red. I was disassociating just to be able to rest for a second, and I tried to think of anything, _anything _to distract me from spiralling once more.__

__"Do you want to leave?"_ _

__I blinked once, hard, and realized Dave meant leave where we were sitting, not leave the war. This time period. This hell on earth that I hadn't even known existed before the godforsaken briefcase happened._ _

__But I couldn't leave. I wouldn't. Dave was here, and Dave was slowly guiding me to my feet, because I hadn't really answered, and Dave was the only thing keeping me from going right back into that bar and taking every drug I knew existed._ _

__We made slow progress back to the soldiers' quarters, and when we got there, it was dead silent, which was so, so much worse than the loudness of the bar. 'Dead' silent just meant I could hear every individual dead person way louder than I could before, and now I was crying, and God I was so, so tired._ _

__Dave lead me to the showers, and I was so numb and cold and exhausted that the thought didn't even cross my mind that this was embarrassing, or intimate, or whatever. I barely reacted as Dave helped me undress, or when he gently stood me under the shower, the water pouring down my face and taking the edge off the chill in my bones. I forced myself to only focus on him, on his hands on my back, my chest, my neck, my shoulders. We locked eyes at one point, and Dave simply smiled, seemingly unfazed by my behavior._ _

___He's too good, the only good thing in this world and you can't have him, you don't deserve him, you're being selfish by staying and making him worry about you. ____ _

____Thoughts like that weren't any better than thoughts of the dead, so I cleared my head again, letting Dave towel me off and rinse himself off briefly before leading us both back to our bunks. I sat, rocking slowly back and forth, as Dave dressed himself in a fresh set of uniform pants. I was wearing his pajama pants, which I was glad for, since I was still freezing._ _ _ _

____Dave sat down gently next to me, his entire right side pressed against my left, and I stopped rocking, anchoring myself to him._ _ _ _

____"Can you tell me about it?" Dave whispered, so gently I thought I might start crying again. "Just walk me through it. I won't judge; just get it off your chest and out of your head."_ _ _ _

____So I did._ _ _ _

____"I can hear them." My voice sounded a bit robotic, but that was okay because at least I was speaking. "I can see them, the scars and the bullet holes and the blood, and their screams are so loud, and I can't do anything, so I don't understand why they're screaming at me in the first place, and I don't know how to shut them up, and I don't know if I should join them or if that would only make things that much worse-"_ _ _ _

____Dave softly bumped me with his shoulder, stopping my monologue. "Okay, good. That's good. You're getting it out. But you're not joining them, Klaus, that's not the answer."_ _ _ _

____I nodded, despite being hesitant. "So what is?"_ _ _ _

____Dave mulled it over, biting his lip and running his hand along my back as he thought. I shivered, and his hand stopped, but his thumb still moved, back and forth along my spine. I focused on that, and not on how long it was taking him to answer, or how my head hurt so bad I wanted to pass out, or how much I missed Ben and my siblings and everything that was familiar._ _ _ _

____"I think therapy might be a good solution, eventually, although obviously that's not an immediate fix. Does talking help?"_ _ _ _

____I considered that, trying to think of a decent response. "I guess. I could talk to you, and it's not so bad, or I could always talk to my-to my brother." I stopped, just breathing for a second so I could focus. "I've never tried therapy."_ _ _ _

____Dave's surprise was clear, but he hid it well with his voice. I only picked it up because his thumb had stopped moving altogether._ _ _ _

____"Well, it's always worth a shot. But until then, is there anything else?"_ _ _ _

____My head hurt so bad, and my vision was blurry again, and I hated this topic so, so, so much. I sighed, and I knew I sounded irritated. "I really don't know, Dave, I'm sorry. I just-I can't, _ugh. _" I hurried my head in my hands, tugging at my hair and trying to relieve some of the pressure, to no avail. Dave's arm was around me, and even that pressure was too much, so I stood up abruptly, blowing a raspberry at the ceiling and throwing my hands back down. "I'm just a fucking basket case, alright? Always have been, always will be!"___ _ _ _

______Dave sat, watching me, until I was done, and I hadn't even realized I'd been sucking in air until then. He raised his eyebrows, and I fell back on his bunk, scratching my neck._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Sorry."_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Don't apologize." Dave leaned forward, tentatively reaching for my hands, which I let him take. He traced the Hello and Goodbye tattoos as he spoke, but I watched his face, because now I was sober enough to be able to read his expression._ _ _ _ _ _

______"You're overwhelmed. That's absolutely clear, and I don't think it's just the war, either. When's the last time you slept through the night, without drugs or booze to help you?"_ _ _ _ _ _

______I thought about it, and honestly couldn't remember, and Dave continued, taking my silence as an answer._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Exactly. You're so high-strung and stressed out, you legitimately can't get your body to relax. I think that's where you should start, just figuring out how to rest for a little while."_ _ _ _ _ _

______I wanted to argue. I wanted to snap back and have a witty response and push Dave away with my sass, like I'd done with everyone else in my entire life. And it had worked, on every single person, except Ben. Who was stuck with me and had no choice, and if he'd had one, he'd probably rather be in hell than being tethered to me. I didn't really blame him, I was such a dick to him, especially._ _ _ _ _ _

______But I couldn't do it to Dave. I wanted, I _needed _Dave to give up on me, because it was better for both of us. Because I brought nothing but pain, and annoyance, and a burden to everyone I met, and I didn't really think I was capable of love, if I was being honest. Ol' Reggie had set me up for failure from birth on that one.___ _ _ _ _ _

________I looked back up at Dave, who was still fiddling with my hands, angelic in the dim glow from the windows of our cabin. His light hair shone, not quite golden but close enough for me. _Do you really love me? _____ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________I hadn't even realized I'd said it aloud until Dave looked up, a soft smile on his face. "Of course I do, silly."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________I smiled back, if a bit tightly. "How do you know?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Dave laughed. "Easy. You're the best!" He kissed my hand, and I smiled, more genuinely than before but still hesitant._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"No, but really. How did you know you loved me? What made you sure?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________I waited while Dave thought it over, brushing his hair out of his eyes with my fingers, and I saw that I was trembling again. I lowered my hand, hiding the shakes between his larger palms, and made myself look him in the eye as he spoke. I needed to see that he was telling the truth._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"It really is easy," he finally said, seeming bashful. "I saw you the night they deployed you here and I thought, "Oh no." I chuckled when Dave raised an eyebrow, but nodded for him to keep going. "You really are trouble though, you know."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"I know." I sighed, and we both laughed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"I'd never seen someone so beautiful. Pardon me for sounding so cheesy, but it really was, is, more than just your looks." Dave grinned again, blushing ever-so-slightly. "Even though those are also a major advantage."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"High risk, high reward?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Dave waved me off, still smiling. "Something like that." We shared a long look, and I felt warm, suddenly, which was a welcomed change to the cold shivers I'd had all night._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"You're the only person in the world that makes me feel, I don't know, alive? You're fun and spontaneous and smart and silly and you kind of scare me, a little-" I couldn't contain my laugh, which was so heartfelt that Dave just laughed with me instead of shushing me like he was going to. "You do! But I like it. I feel like I can be myself around you, and that you're so yourself that there's no way I can have room to feel bad. There is, obviously," Dave waved his hand at our general surroundings. "But you make it seem… worth it, I guess. It's worth it for me to be here if it means I get to be with you."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________I stayed silent, but Dave was getting a bit choked up, which made me realize I hadn't needed to watch his face at all. I trusted Dave with everything in me, and when I moved to sit next to him, he looked at me and I knew he felt the same way._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"I have nightmares sometimes that you'll die in this war, and I'll have nothing to say any of it was worth it when I get home. I want you to meet my mom, and my friends, and I want to move in with you in a real house with a real bed so we can actually have a real life."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He kissed me, then, because if he didn't we'd both fall apart. I let that kiss linger, because it was soft and warm and honest and I needed something good and real to hold on to. But eventually I had to move away, because everything he'd said couldn't go unacknowledged, even by me._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"I don't think I thought love was real until I met you."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Dave blinked hard, trying to fight back the tears. "Really?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________I nodded. "Really. My dad didn't love me. My mom was… distant, and my siblings even more so. My only real friend was my brother, and he's dead. So… yeah. I just thought love was something you said to people to trick them into sticking around." I shrugged, even though Dave looked sad for me. "But I've never thought you were trying to trick me."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________I must've looked tired, because Dave laid back, pulling me with him so I was half-draped over his chest. "This can't be comfortable for you," I laughed breathlessly. My head was on his chest, so I could hear his laugh before he spoke._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"It is, actually. You're like a really light blanket."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________We stayed silent for a few minutes, listening to each other breathe, and when Dave spoke, it was in a whisper._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"For the record, I have never tried to trick you, and I never will. I love you, for better or for worse, Klaus Hargreeves."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________I smiled, and I knew that even though he couldn't see me, he could feel it. "I love you too, David Katz. Will you get lunch with me tomorrow?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________I heard his chest rumble. "Yes, I will get lunch with you tomorrow. Now go to sleep, you're making me sleepy."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________I shut my eyes, and unbelievably, I didn't even think about going to sleep. I just did, and I considered that a miracle._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter does mention some pain/war-related violence, so please tread carefully!

I didn't expect to get out of this war completely unscathed; after all, it was a war, and it had been years since I'd had combat training of any sort. But getting shot was a different story altogether. 

It was loud, first of all, and I knew loud. The inside of my head was always loud, and I'd had the shit beat out of me plenty of times before, by plenty of different people. It hurt, and needles hurt, and being resuscitated in the back of an ambulance hurt. But all of that paled in comparison to a piece of metal ripping its way through your arm, tearing your skin apart and leaving a burning sensation so bad I almost blacked out. I didn't, obviously, because adrenaline is a hell of a drug in itself. But we'd barely made it back to camp before I did, hitting the ground so hard and so fast I thought maybe I was dead and I was remembering this from the grave. 

Death wasn't this painful, though, and that's basically how I woke myself up. I knew death, had seen it and heard it and lived it for years, and I simply thought, _yeah, no, this ain't it, chief. _And I blinked my eyes open, tears already forming from the searing pain in my arm.__

__"Hey, hey," Dave's voice comforted me, if only a little. "Jules, he's awake."_ _

__A medic was by my side in an instant, shining a light in my eye and making me hiss out in pain. "Watch it, man."_ _

__He mumbled an apology, already on to taking my temperature, and Dave was chewing at his fingernail, squeezing my hand so hard in his own that it seemed like he was in pain, too. "You okay?" I asked, or tried to; my throat was so dry and my voice was so scratchy that I didn't even recognize it as my own._ _

__"Am I okay?" Dave huffed out a laugh, looking at me like I was crazy, and I smiled, not knowing what was so funny. I hurt all over, but if I was being honest, this wasn't even in my top three near death encounters._ _

__"I'm in perfect health," I wheezed, and when the medic started fiddling with my arm, I bit back a scream. Dave simply glared at me. "Is he going to be okay?"_ _

__The medic methodically began cleaning my wound, ignoring my rapid breathing and the sweat that was now breaking out on my face. I probably looked disgusting. "He should be, but it's a fairly deep wound and he has a fever now, as well. I would suggest an opioid-"_ _

___"No." ____ _

____The finality of my objection caused both men to stare at me in shock, but I was too busy gritting my teeth and trying not to cry to really care._ _ _ _

____"Uh, alright," the medic shrugged. "It's going to be a long, painful recovery on that arm, though. Your fever should be gone in a day or so, but you won't be able to lift much with that arm for a few weeks."_ _ _ _

____Dave was staring at me worriedly, but nodded, and I didn't answer at all, waiting for the bandage to be re-wrapped and the medic to be gone before I let a few tears leak down the side of my face._ _ _ _

____"Hey, hey," Dave wiped them away, kissing my forehead. "It's gonna be okay! You're so much tougher than I would be, I'd be bawling like a baby if I were you."_ _ _ _

____I smiled tightly. "Uh huh, sure you would, you big hunk."_ _ _ _

____Dave chuckled, but his expression grew more somber as he spoke. "Are you sure you don't want something? You're clearly in pain, and you can't get better if you-"_ _ _ _

____I was already shaking my head, roughly enough that it caused my arm to burn once more. "I can't, I really can't. I'll get hooked, I know I will, and this… it's better like this."_ _ _ _

____I hadn't convinced him in the slightest, but Dave nodded anyway, smoothing my hair away from my forehead. "I just don't like seeing you hurt."_ _ _ _

____I leaned up and kissed him, trying to make the worried look go away. "I'll be fine. I'm always fine; I'm tough, remember?" Dave rolled his eyes. "Go get some sleep; I'll be fine, I swear."_ _ _ _

____Dave still looked hesitant. "I don't know, maybe I should stay?"_ _ _ _

____I was shaking my head again, smiling softly. "No, because you have to bring me breakfast in the morning."_ _ _ _

____My joking was definitely helping, and Dave stood up, kissing me again as he did. "Oh, of course. How could I forget?" He kissed me one last time, tucking my blanket around me before he left. "Love ya!" He waved, and I blew a kiss back._ _ _ _

____"Love you more!" I waited until he was out of my line of vision before I sunk back, finally letting the pain wash over me and contort my face however it pleased. I may have faced death numerous times before, but this, by far, was probably the most painful experience of my life. I hadn't had a hit of anything, drug or alcohol, in over two weeks, and the pain was hitting me raw, burning and searing so bad I wondered how any soldier did this._ _ _ _

____I didn't think I could do this._ _ _ _


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a lot longer than the first three, and a lot darker, but I swear it will be followed up with two chapters that were my favorites to write and also extremely wholesome! I've still got a few chapter ideas left, but feel free to comment any ideas/suggestions for future ones you'd like to see!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw for drug use/alcohol use/self destructive behavior in general; please stay safe and proceed with caution!

The next two days were a blur of pain, of faking being okay in front of Dave and the medic and dying on the inside the whole way through. I didn't want to worry Dave; he cared about me so much, and I needed him to be happy. I didn't care if I was or not. And if the medic knew I was in as much pain as I was, he'd give me painkillers and that would be the end of it for me. I didn't have the temptation, and without it, I seemed to be doing okay. Not great, but okay. 

On the fourth day, the medic said I was doing well enough to walk around the village, and I was relieved. Dave had already gone back to our cabin, and I was so antsy that I was willing to do anything to take my mind off of my arm and, more importantly, the ghosts that were louder and more present than they'd been in years. 

The medic, Jules, was washing his hands as I gathered my things, and kept glancing at me as I did. I ignored him, since all he'd done in the last two days was cause me pain and tell Dave to leave me alone to rest. 

"Hey, you wanna grab a drink? You look like you need it." 

I looked up at him, and he was smiling, seemingly a completely different person if he wasn't on duty. I understood that; Dave was similar, business on the battlefront and complete sweetheart at camp. I smiled back, hesitant. "Uh, I don't know. It's late, isn't it?" 

Jules shrugged, drying his hands on the towel hanging off the sink. "Only 11. And it's one drink, what could it hurt?" 

He had a point. I hadn't had a drink since I got drunk at the bar that night with Dave, and that was three weeks ago. I deserved a reward for that, right? Even if it was only one drink. 

"Yeah, sure, why not. Let's go." 

I followed Jules to a bar I'd never been before, on the edge of the village. It was dimly lit, and only a few people were inside, some of which Jules greeted as we walked by their table. I waved, and my stomach churned. I hadn't eaten since early today, so this drink might have to be lighter than I'd anticipated. 

Jules ordered whisky, which wasn't my preferred drink but I accepted it nonetheless. We clinked glasses, and I knocked the whole thing back before I'd really even thought about what I was doing. 

"Damn," Jules snickered, barely having taken a sip of his own drink. "You've been needing that, huh?" I nodded, slightly embarrassed by how experienced I looked. I hadn't had the intention of drinking the whole glass at all, but my body had other ideas, and that had clearly been muscle memory alone. Or so I hoped. 

Jules ordered me another one before I could protest, and I stared at it, sitting on the bar in front of me with nothing stopping me from breathing that one in, too. My hand twitched, and I fought the urge, focusing on the dull pain in my arm and on the various people in the bar who were too loud, too bright, and only visible to me. They seemed to be watching me as I looked at anything but that damned glass. 

"What's the matter? You don't want it?" 

I glanced at Jules, who was studying me curiously. "Come on, like I said, it's only 11. Go nuts." 

I shook my head. "Ah, no, I can't. Big day tomorrow, yeah, I shouldn't get drunk. Thanks though." 

Jules rolled his eyes, not buying it. "Doing what? You're on bed rest for the rest of the week, at least. You can let loose a little."

Still, I shook my head, and Jules' smile turned into something a little more sinister, a little more mean. "What, does your boyfriend not want you to drink? That's fucking lame, especially during this hell." He waved his hand at our surroundings, and I couldn't say he didn't have a point. Everyone here did something to take the edge off. 

I tried to ignore his rude comment. "He doesn't care," I answered glibly, trying to shrug nonchalantly but I was still eyeing that glass. "It's just been a while since I've, y'know. Been sober. The wagon and all." 

Jules laughed, scooting the drink closer to me. "Well, bud, I don't think now is really the time to get clean, no offense." 

I agreed, I so, so agreed, but I knew I shouldn't. It was a bad idea, this whole thing was a bad idea, and the music in the bar was so loud and the ghosts' stares were making my face hot and Ben wasn't here, Ben was always here to talk sense into me and he wasn't, and- 

The whiskey didn't burn as much as it should have as it went down, and Jules laughed again, nudging my shoulder with his own. It hurt, and since it hurt, I went ahead and drank the third glass that was placed in front of me, and half of the fourth, for good measure. The throbbing pain dulled a bit, and I breathed a sigh of relief, still hating the burning stares of the dead around me. 

"Do you even like whiskey?" 

"Guess I do now." I didn't even look at Jules as I finished my glass, but he seemed to think it was hilarious, since he was only just barely on his second. 

"Do you wanna play some pool?" 

I followed Jules to the pool table, and I wasn't pleased to see I was stumbling ever-so-slightly as I walked. I was bad at pool, but it was something to do, and I didn't even notice when Jules stepped away, continuing to focus on the task in front of me instead. On anything but the thoughts in my head, at this point. When he returned, he had a new wickedness about his smile, and I backed up a step when he approached me. He was taller than me, but not by much, and I didn't know if he was going to try to fight me or kiss me, if I was being honest. I also didn't know which would be worse, at this point. The lights around us were hazy, and I raised my eyebrows, sizing him up. "You good?" 

"Fantastic." Jules grinned too broadly, jerking his head towards the tables. "You like blow?" 

Shit shit shit fuck shit. "Uh, I don't know what you're talk-" 

Jules' laugh was one of pure malice. "Oh, sure you don't. I can spot a junkie when I see one, dude." 

I glared at the insult. "Y'know, I think I should leave, so if you don't mind-" I tried pushing past Jules, who sidestepped me easily and grabbed my shoulders, guiding me straight towards the tables. I tried to break loose, but at this point I was pretty drunk and the bartender was nowhere in sight, and the guys at the table had already spotted me.

"Guys, this is my friend I was telling you about," Jules stopped propelling us forward, but kept a hand on my shoulder, near my bandaged wound. The men around the table laughed loudly, exchanging knowing looks. 

"You were really knocking 'em back over there," one laughed, gesturing towards the bar. "Helluva week, hm?" Another pointed towards my arm. I chuckled uncomfortably, glaring at Jules and holding my hands up. 

"Ha, yeah, I'm pretty tired now, with the week and all. You fellas have fun, though." I stepped towards the door, ignoring the white powder that was tempting me all too much for comfort. One of the men blocked my path, studying me. 

"Wow," he shook his head. "And here we were trying to make friends. You got a problem?" 

I shook my head, too fast, and my vision blurred. "Of course not! Appreciate the kindness, always, but I've really got to-" 

One of the other men interrupted me, and I was really not loving where this situation was going. I'd been in iterations of this situation far too many times to count, and I had yet to be in one that ended well. The man leaned forward, focused. "Hey, you been hanging out with Katz?" 

I froze. If they knew Dave, they could take this out on him. I knew how gangs worked, especially drug-dealing ones in bars, and they rarely ever went after the person they had been seen with. They went after the next best thing. Time seemed to stand still, the ghosts and my bullet wound the least of my worries, and I glanced back down at the table, at the snow-like substance before me. There was already a line, and it practically called my name to cross it, and I knew, then, that I had two choices. Risk the addiction, or risk Dave. 

I knew what my odds were when I leaned over and breathed the line in with practiced ease. I was willing to risk me, always, but never Dave. 

The men cheered, and I took a huge breath, feeling the effects of the coke almost immediately. The euphoria, the numbness, the exact feeling I had been trying to avoid for weeks. It hit me like a glass of cold water to the face, and I hated myself so much in that moment that I went and did a second line, and a third, and the ghosts were gone, and my pain was gone and the guilt and I was feeling the best I'd felt in my life.

Eventually, I left the bar, not remembering getting there but ending up back in our cabin, in Dave's bed, in what seemed like seconds. Dave was confused, at first, but he seemed happy to see me, and I was so so so happy to see him, and I kissed him, cold from the chill outside and welcomed by the warmth of his lips, his body, his love. His hands were on my hips, and I used mine to remove my shirt, barely breaking the kiss as I did. 

"Klaus, your arm-" 

"Feels great, shh." 

Dave couldn't protest much with my tongue in his mouth, and he flipped me over, barely having to lift me at all. I felt like I was on fire, and flying, and I couldn't imagine why I wouldn't want to feel like this. I let Dave have his way with me, and my thoughts were glass, shattered every few seconds by a new wave of sensation and pleasure and everything my brain would never let me have on a daily basis. I didn't hate myself, I wasn't scared, I wasn't tired or lonely or shaking or worried or any of the things I usually was. I was perfect and Dave was perfect and everything, in that moment, was perfect. 

We laid, breathing heavily, for a long time after, the only sound our breathing and my heartbeat, so loud I knew Dave must hear it. The other troops were on the night patrol, and I didn't care anyway, a happy smile plastered to my face. I trailed my hand lazily along Dave's side, and grinned brightly at him as he turned to look at me, his eyebrows furrowed. 

"Klaus, what is that smell?" 

I giggled, pressing my finger to his lips, because his voice was so loud it rang in my head like bells. _Louder than sirens, louder than bells… _I hummed a song I half-knew, and forgot what Dave said, removing my hand from his mouth and caressing his jawline, and the stubble there, and his neck, and-__

__"Is that whiskey? Were you at the bar?"_ _

__I couldn't keep myself from nodding, but I wish I had, because Dave's eyes were serious now and he wasn't smiling anymore, and now I wasn't, either, my hand frozen on his shoulder._ _

__"Why?" he whispered, and I tried kissing him into smiling again, but he pulled away, stopping my hand with his own and sitting up way too fast._ _

__"Jules," I responded, exasperated. "I didn't go, he took me, and there were all these men, and no bartender, and lines, and-"_ _

__Dave's eyes darkened at 'lines'. "He did what?"_ _

__I blinked slowly, confused. "Yeah, I didn't really understand or want to go at first, either, but my arm doesn't hurt now! So that's good, right?"_ _

__Dave didn't answer, or smile, and I was getting upset, because he seemed upset, and he wasn't happy at all anymore. Shouldn't he be happy? I was, Jules had been, all the men at the bar had been. "Do you want to go back? I can take you-"_ _

__"No," Dave snapped, swinging his legs off the bed and buttoning his pants, pulling his boots on, moving so fast that I was getting a little dizzy watching him. "You stay here. I'll be back in a few minutes."_ _

__I didn't want him to leave, so I tried standing up too, but I was caught in the sheet and right now, it was outsmarting me. "You don't know where you're going, you need me to show you, it's way on the edge of town, hang on, I-"_ _

__Dave pushed me, gently but firmly, back down, and I had no resistance in me to do anything but hit the bed with a small oof. I grabbed his hand, pleadingly, and I didn't like the expression on his face, the urgency in his movements. He was scaring me, and Dave didn't scare me. Ever._ _

__"I want to go with you."_ _

__The smile Dave offered me wasn't genuine, even I could see that much. But he kissed me again, and I melted into him, my head spinning once more. He stepped away, and he was heading for the door, leaving me dizzy and confused and stuck in this damn blanket. "I'll be right back," he called. "And Klaus, do not go anywhere. I mean it."_ _

__I'd never heard Dave speak to me like that, and I got scared, because what if he didn't come back? I was alone in this cabin and I was high as a kite and somehow, being alone without the ghosts was, in a way, scarier. I was lucky I wasn't able to focus on anything, because if I had been, I'd be having a full-blown panic attack. But every few seconds, I'd sniff Dave's pillow, and his comforting smell slowed my heart rate, and I was still warm and floating and if this was the cost of peace, so be it. I couldn't be sober in a war, no one could, right? I couldn't even be sober in 2019, when everything really wasn't that bad, in the grand scheme of things._ _

__When Dave returned, I sighed in relief, only to throw him a puzzled glance when he didn't acknowledge me and headed straight towards the bathroom instead. I detached myself from the blanket somewhere along the way, albeit with great difficulty, and so I followed him, squinting at the bright florescent light bouncing off all the mirrors. Dave looked tired, but wound up, and he was scrubbing his hands with soap, unsuccessful in his attempt to wash all the blood away before I saw it._ _

__"Dave, what happened? Are you okay?"_ _

__I focused harder on his face, and his lip was swollen, a bruise forming on his jaw. He didn't react when I grazed the bruise with my fingers, or when my thumb touched the cut on his lip, which I knew had to sting._ _

__"What did you do?"_ _

__Dave sighed, pushing my hand away and continuing to scrub at his knuckles. "I went to beat the shit out of Jules, cause God knows I couldn't do it to you."_ _

__I blinked a few times, having trouble processing that. My brain felt fluffy, and none of what he had said made sense. "Do you want to? Beat the shit out of me?"_ _

__I said it matter-of-factly, my voice small and unaccusatory, but Dave winced, studying my face. I knew I looked stupid right now- wide-eyed, probably red in the face with how hot I felt, and I knew he could now see how large my pupils were- but Dave sighed anyway, putting my hand back to his mouth and kissing it._ _

__"No, I don't. Not you. Just, this," he gestured at me, and I frowned. "What's happened to you. What made you do this."_ _

__I knit my brows, not liking the sound of that. It just didn't sound right, but I wasn't sure why. Vibes or something. "Nothing made me do this, I did this. This is me. I've always been like this."_ _

__Dave shook his head, drying his hands and not waiting for me to catch up before he sat back down on his bed. I flopped on my back beside him, mostly because I was too dizzy to sit up, but I held his hand anyway. I was a little afraid he might leave if I didn't anchor him to this spot._ _

__"Why? Why do you do this, fill yourself with poison and pretend like everything's okay?"_ _

__I flinched. Even through my haze of "poison", the words hurt. They struck a nerve, no matter how numb the nerve currently was. "I can't help it. It gets so overwhelming all the time, and I can never rest with them, and it's just worth it to me because I don't want them, never have, and-"_ _

__Dave put his hand over my mouth, effectively silencing me. I giggled a little at the sensation, but Dave was dead serious._ _

__"What 'them'? What are you talking about?"_ _

__At that moment, I honestly forgot the effect coke had on my brain. I barely had a filter on a good day, so on one like this, there was nothing stopping me from answering 100% truthfully, "The ghosts, the powers, all of it."_ _

__Dave stared at me, and I stared back. We were frozen, and I realized it had been months and I hadn't let Dave know about any of my umbrella academy days. I'd done a good job, keeping that secret, and now I'd just blurred it all out at the worst possible moment. Dave looked confused and worried, but not like he was going to laugh at me, so I breathed a bit, wincing from the migraine that had suddenly taken over my high._ _

__"I'm sorry, I don't know what I'm talking about. I'm high. I'm drunk. My head hurts, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry."_ _

__Dave shushed me, laying down beside me and just looking at me, which I very much did not like at the moment. I couldn't look him in the eye, and I was twitching, which was probably annoying him, and I was so hot that I just wanted to scream, and my brain was spiralling hard._ _

____"Will you remember this conversation in the morning?"_ _ _ _

____I winced again. "Yeah, probably. I have a great memory, believe it or not. We don't have to talk about it, though," I giggled again, even though it hurt. It released pressure that was stuck in my throat, my chest. "I know I fucked up. I'm fucked up. I'm a fuck up. It's fine."_ _ _ _

____Still, Dave was not smiling, and I kind of wanted to cry, because I did this. I ruined this. But he still spoke gently to me, and didn't look as angry as he should be, and that just confused me all the more, made that weird pressure turn and knot some more._ _ _ _

____"It's not fine, Klaus, and you're not a fuck up. But I want to know what's happening with you tomorrow, and I'm serious. You're not avoiding this conversation. I want, I need, an explanation."_ _ _ _

____I rolled over, and Dave rolled with me, taking my silence as agreement. He still had his arm around me though, and I was so tired, and he was so warm, but I kept fidgeting, the coke still not out of my bloodstream enough for me to sleep._ _ _ _

____"Can you talk to me?"_ _ _ _

____"Hm?" Dave didn't sound tired either, and his breath tickled the back of my neck. "About what?"_ _ _ _

____"Anything," I whispered. "You."_ _ _ _

____I let his soft voice wash over me, calming my accelerated heart rate and my nerves._ _ _ _

____"Uh, okay. My mom, Mary, she had this garden when I was little, right? And we had all these grasshoppers, and they'd eat the damn tomatoes. Every summer, they ate holes through all the tomatoes in the garden, before the heat ever got the chance to kill them."_ _ _ _

____I closed my eyes tightly, focusing on details. "Where do you live? With heat and grasshoppers?"_ _ _ _

____Dave chuckled, and his chest sounded like a cat purring. "Texas, of course. Anyway, these grasshoppers were my mom's archenemies, and I'd never heard that woman curse until that summer. I was oh, I don't know, ten. So she'd fight them off every summer and I'd just sort of stand there, 'cause what ten year old wants to be gardening with his mom, right?"_ _ _ _

____"Right," I breathed, fully invested in his story now._ _ _ _

____"Right. Well, she gave up on that garden a few years later, until my dad died a few summers ago-"_ _ _ _

____"Oh, I'm sorry." I moved his hand from my stomach to my mouth, kissing his knuckles. Dave just laughed again, shrugging it off._ _ _ _

____"Nah, it's fine, happened a good while ago. Thanks though. Anyway, she started gardening again a few years ago, only now the grasshoppers are worse-" I giggled, but Dave shushed me. "So, being the handy grown man I am now, I fixed it for her before I got deployed. I built little gardening cages all around these tomatoes, and she said when I get home, we'll have fresh tomatoes to eat for all our suppers that week. She wrote me a letter and said the little cages are working, so basically, I beat those bastard grasshoppers for my mom."_ _ _ _

____I didn't know why, but my eyes felt sort of wet. "She sounds really nice," I whispered._ _ _ _

____"She is. She'd love you."_ _ _ _

____"Really?" I was sleepy, but content, and I felt Dave press his lips to the back of my head._ _ _ _

____"Absolutely. She'd tell you what she thinks of your tattoos, but besides that, she'd say you're the most charming young man she's ever met, and she'd tell you all about the shit I used to get up to, and she'd make you stay for dinner because she never invited a guest into our house that she didn't cook a meal for, and besides, she'd say you're skin and bones. She'd ask you about your family, and what kinds of music you listen to, and if you had room for pie, which you can't say no to by the way…"_ _ _ _

____Dave's voice lulled me to sleep, and I fell asleep smiling, with Dave's arm around me, dreaming of his house in Texas with a normal family who loves him._ _ _ _


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like the way I wrote this chapter, so I hope you guys do too! Once again, thanks for all the kudos and comments, and feel free to leave any feedback/suggestions in a comment!:)

I was crashing and burning in the morning, and my body, while it was well and used to getting high, was not used to that much stimuli in one night, after nearly half a month functioning semi normally. I barely made it into the bathroom before I threw up, and I could barely see because of the migraine I had right now. My throat burned, my skin burned, everything burned and my arm, god, I could feel exactly where that bullet had lodged itself in my bicep. 

Dave was a few steps behind me, still groggy but more aware than I was, at least. Which I supposed wasn't saying much, actually. He let me get it all out of my system, and it was a lot, and I just curled into a fetal position on the cold tile next to him, panting and sweating and burning and shivering all at once. 

"Maybe don't snort a line next time, dumbass." 

I blinked up at Dave, who was looking at me disapprovingly but still fondly, his hair looking like a halo of light against the harsh florescents. "Fuck off, I'm dying," I croaked.

Dave laughed, pulling me up by my good arm and sitting me right back down on the shower floor. "Take your clothes off." 

"Damn, no dinner or anything first? Bossy much?" 

Dave raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Funny. I'm turning this shower on in 60 seconds, now strip, lieutenant." 

I did what he said, but way slower than 60 seconds, barely able to move my head without crying out. I was still curled into a ball, and Dave knelt down next to me, turning the shower on warm and letting it fall gently over me. "Don't move or you'll probably slip and bust your ass. I'll be back in five with food and another bandage." 

I glanced down, not realizing he'd even taken the dirty bandage off. I squinted at him, the lights burning my retinas. "You can't kill Jules, Dave." 

Dave smirked again, kissing my forehead briefly before standing back up. "Can't kill a man who can't walk. My conscious won't allow it. Be back in a few." 

I glared after him, defeated. "Turn the light off!" 

He did, and I breathed a sigh of relief when the light went out and the cabin was filled with silence. My ears were ringing so loud I didn't think I could hear the ghosts if they were screaming, and the water was waking me up, soaking my hair and chasing the chill away, slowly but surely. I wished this base had a bathtub, oh how I missed baths. 

I remembered Ben, then, making fun of my bath addiction. 

"Baths are so much less efficient, Klaus." 

"And?" I'd bitten back, sinking into the bubbles with a sigh and closing my eyes. "I enjoy few things on this mortal coil and baths are one of them." 

Ben had been sitting on the counter, reading a Stephen King novel. Oh, the irony. "They're gross. And they get cold." 

I'd rolled my eyes behind my eyelids. "If you don't shut up I will follow you around with a blunt and see if ghosts can get secondhand high." 

Ben had grimaced, shooting me a look. He hated the smell of weed, and we both knew it.

I missed Ben, sitting on the shower floor, alone in the dark. I was never really alone, obviously, but without Ben it seemed a lot more lonely. I missed him, and I missed my family, and I missed 2019 when I didn't have to worry about being blown to bits in a battlefield. 

When Dave came back, he left the door cracked a bit, and lathered shampoo into my hair in the dim sunlight that streamed in. I rested my head against his leg as he massaged my hair, and I almost fell asleep again until the water turned off, and Dave wrapped a towel around me, pulling me to my feet again. 

"Feeling any better?" 

I gave him a look. "Never better. What's for breakfast?" 

Dave let me nibble at the food he brought as he wrapped my arm back up, tenderly touching the stitches where the bullet hole had been. "Does it still hurt?" 

I shrugged, mumbling around the food in my mouth. "Yeah, I guess. Is it ugly?" I strained to look at it, and nodded when I saw the mangled little spot. "Gross. I'm gonna get a tattoo over that." 

Dave sputtered out a laugh. "Of what?" 

I thought about it, taking another bite of eggs. "Our brigade, maybe. Or, y'know, I could always get your name. See what your mom thinks of that." 

His hands faltered a bit, and he glanced up at me, trying to hide a smile. "You remember what I said about my mom?" 

I nodded. "Tomatoes, grasshoppers, pie. She sounds like a cool gal." 

Dave smiled, tying off the bandage and ripping the remaining piece off with his teeth. "She is. Do you want to go walk out back, maybe get some fresh air? It's kind of rainy." 

I didn't object, knowing exactly where this was headed and wondering if I could play dead to avoid it. But Dave handed me his army jacket, and I followed him, hugging my arms to myself and cursing my brain for betraying me last night. I'd brought this upon myself, but still. I could hate me for less.

Dave stopped us at the bottom of the hill, facing a meadow that disappeared into some dense trees. I stared at the trees, hugging my knees to my chest and ignoring Dave's expectant gaze. 

"If I tell you what I meant last night, you're going to think I'm crazy. Crazier. Like batshit, balls to the wall insane." 

I saw him shake his head, but I didn't take my eyes off of those trees. "No I won't. Just tell me the truth. It'll be okay." 

I snorted. "It's insane, Dave. I'll sound insane. Clinically." 

Dave tilted my chin so I was looking at him, and he smiled, his hand spread out against my cheek and his fingers in my hair, much like the first time we'd kissed. "Are you sober?" I nodded hesitantly. "Then I'll believe you." 

I looked back at the trees, holding his hand tightly as I took a few good, deep breaths. He was right; the fresh air was helping. I closed my eyes, saving this as the last memory I had of Dave before he knew everything, and exhaled. 

"My father adopted seven children on October 1st, 1989. Each of those children had extraordinary gifts, and he trained them to develop those abilities into something much more than "gifts". I was number four." 

I could feel Dave watching me, but I kept my eyes closed, not able to stand seeing his reaction on the next part. "My ability was seeing the dead. Communicating with the dead. Manifesting the dead. I was four years old when I first saw a ghost, and now, if I'm not high or drunk or both, I see them, everywhere. They scream at me and beg for their lives and I can see how they died, and it's haunted me for my whole life. 

"I became an alcoholic by probably the age of 14. I became an addict by 18. My brother died when I was 17, and I can see his ghost. He's been with me for almost 13 years, only he's not here now." 

"Why?" 

Dave's soft whisper made me open my eyes, and his face was pale, but otherwise, he still appeared mostly attentive. And he was still holding my hand. 

"I don't know. I'm not from this timeline, but I guess you've figured that out. I'm from 2019. And I guess he's still there. That briefcase," I jerked my head towards the camp. "Brought me here, somehow, and I stole it from two assassins who were trying to kill my other brother, who disappeared when we were 13. He can time travel. I'm guessing that briefcase let them, too." 

I looked back towards the trees, and the wind that was blowing the branches wildly back and forth, and I didn't think about what Dave was going to say, or what I would do if he didn't say anything at all. I just stared, and tried to breathe normally, and held on tight to his hand. 

Dave seemed to be overwhelmed, but he did a good job processing it without bothering me, staring at the trees as well and finally asking, "Can I ask questions?" 

"Shoot, solider." 

He didn't hesitate. "Can you see the ghosts here?" 

I nodded. 

"All of them? The Americans, the Viet Cong, the villagers, all of them?" 

Another nod. Dave laughed humorlessly, mostly in shock if anything. "God, no wonder." 

I furrowed my brows. "No wonder what?" 

"You get high!" Dave exclaimed, breathless. "I can barely deal with the thought of it, let alone seeing them all, constantly, in that state—God." 

I snorted. "Yeah, it's rough. And it ain't pretty, that's for sure. Anything else?" My voice sounded surprisingly calm, and I'm glad that I wasn't portraying the raging turmoil that was in my stomach and chest and head right now. I was full-blown freaking out, but I just sounded matter of fact, like an info commercial.

Dave chewed at his lip, thinking. "What can the others do? Your siblings?"

I smiled. "Luther has superhuman strength. Diego can hit anything he thinks about with a knife. Allison can rumour people to do anything she wants. Five can time travel, and teleport." My voice hitched. "Ben could summon a monster from inside himself to tear people to shreds." 

Dave's face was pale again, and I let him process that, not even noticing the drizzle that was now misting over everything. 

"That's six, including you. You said your father adopted seven kids." 

It wasn't a question, but I answered anyway. "Oh, Vanya doesn't have powers like us. She's seven." 

"That doesn't make any sense." 

I turned to Dave, surprise clear on my face. "What do you mean?" 

Dave didn't look at me, shaking his head and squinting at the trees through the haze. "If your father adopted seven kids, they should all have powers. If not, why didn't he just adopt six?" 

I frowned. "Huh. I guess that doesn't make sense. Weird." 

Dave shrugged, his eyes glazed. "Unless she has powers and y'all just don't know." 

I couldn't contain my laugh. "Ohh ho ho, no. You don't know Vanya, she's too… normal, to ever have powers. She's like, the least fucked up Hargreeves kid there is. Or the most, since dad treated her probably worse than us in the long run." 

"Or so you think," Dave sighed, releasing my hand and running it through his hair, again and again and agan. I knew he was overwhelmed and probably terrified, and his breath was a bit shallow, doing the exact thing I was trying desperately to keep mine from doing. I wished Ben was here, at the very least to talk me down from the ledge it felt like I was teetering on. If Dave wanted nothing to do with me, I wouldn't blame him, but I didn't want to think about how self destructive I'd become if it happened. I knew myself, and I wouldn't be able to handle it.

The longer Dave remained silent, the panickier I became, and the wind was howling and the rain was warm and I was genuinely terrified for the first time since I landed in 1968. 

Finally, my wavering voice broke the silence, not entirely of my own accord. "Dave, if you need to—I don't—I shouldn't've—"

"Tell me something about you. Anything." 

His voice was quiet, but firm, and I stared at him, puzzled. "Uh, what?" 

"Anything. A fact about you. Do it." 

I stuttered, trying to force something out of my mouth. "I can see ghosts? Is that what—" 

Dave's eyes snapped to me, and they were intense, but not angry. Not sad. Not scared. Just… intense. "No, a fact about you. Something you like, something you enjoy, an embarrassing secret, something. You're more than just this—this power, or whatever."

I opened my mouth, falling silent as he continued to stare at me, into my soul, it seemed. I held his gaze, shaking like a leaf. 

"I...I like folk music?" 

Dave's stern look cracked, if only a little. "Good. Keep going." 

I searched his gaze for any hints that he was kidding, or playing me, or something, but all my mind gave me was him saying _I've never tried to trick you, and I never will. _So I talked, and talked, and talked until the words I was saying didn't make sense.__

__"I like art. I don't understand art, and I like that. I've never had a pet, but I've always wanted one, but my dad never let us get one. I've been to 12 countries. I hate the smell of new cars. I can't remember how many people I've been with in my life. I hate my hair short. I can speak some of almost 15 languages. I'm mean. I've never killed someone. I've never loved anyone more than I love you."_ _

__Dave was smiling at the ground by this point, but I was still staring at him, my eyes watery and pleading and probably as scared as I've ever looked. Dave was nodding along to what I was saying, but stopped and closed his eyes when I said that last part. I thought my heart stopped, and when Dave opened his eyes, the smile was gone._ _

__"I don't like your hair short, either."_ _

__My mouth fell open, and Dave cracked a grin, beginning to laugh and causing me to laugh, if breathlessly, as well. Pretty soon we were both clutching our sides, and holding each other, and crying from either laughter or relief, I didn't know. Or care, really; Dave still loved me, Dave was still here, and I couldn't believe that. I couldn't believe I hadn't messed everything up completely._ _

__It was full-on pouring by now, and we were both soaked but didn't care. Dave kissed me deeply, and I let him, and he was so warm and solid and there that I thought, yeah, maybe I had a future with him. Maybe I had a future where I was sober and Dave came back to 2019 with me and met my family, and we bought a little house in Texas and I had dinner with his mom and we talked about grasshoppers and tomatoes and nothing at all. It was the only future I'd ever thought of for myself, in my whole life, and it was so perfect and normal and tangible that I could practically taste it._ _

__Dave finally laid back, staring up at the rain that was pelting down on us, and said, "I sure can pick em, huh?"_ _

__I laid down next to him, shielding my eyes from the droplets. "Hey, I'm a catch. One of a kind."_ _

__Rolling his eyes, Dave smiled. "That's for sure."_ _


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, I post a chapter with zero suffering; all smiles and cutesy fluff in this one, folks! Hope you like it, and please feel free to leave feedback/recommendations in the comments; I love hearing what you lovely people have to say!😁

At the beginning of my six month in Vietnam, we'd been on the battlefront for a week straight, and we were all injured to some degree or another. We'd had to flee on the eighth day, due to low resources, ammo, and stamina on our part. We were soldiers, but we weren't machines, and too many men died that week to count. All of us had come close to dying when a grenade hit our trench, and that alone was enough to send half of our fleet running. I didn't blame them; I could see what happened to the ones that didn't make it.

Our Sarge had let us have the day after we returned to ourselves, and the whole regiment slept in until at least noon, being mentally exhausted as well as physically. I screamed when I felt Dave's hand shake me awake. 

Dave didn't react, just smiling softly down at me when I finally opened my eyes. His hand was splayed against my side, and even I could tell I had lost a lot of weight these past few weeks. You could see my ribs, if you could look past the scrapes and bruises and burns, and I hated this war, god I hated it. 

"Hey, sleepyhead. Wanna get some lunch?" 

I yawned, stretching my arms all the way over my head as I sat up, and arched my back, hearing my joints crack like glowsticks. I'd been crouching in a ditch for days; my body was not pleased about it in the least. I needed to do some yoga. "I dunno, I'm kind of sick of seeing people, y'know?" 

Dave nodded, biting at his lip like he always did when he was in thought. "What if we did a sort of picnic? I'll pack it, you just have to show up." I grinned, standing up and pulling him with me as I did. I kissed him, deeply and for long enough to make my lips tingle, and Dave laughed, finally pulling back and receiving a glare from me. 

"Hey, hey, save it for later, cowboy. We've got all day." 

I rolled my eyes, waving him off as I headed for the showers. It'd been over a week since I'd had any time alone with Dave, or even just time that I didn't think one of us were in immediate danger of dying at any second. The most we'd done was sleep next to each other or hold hands, or bandage an odd wound or something of the like. We were too terrified to really do anything else, and I wished I could just leave this war with Dave and never think about it ever again, never think about the things we had to do on the battlefield that week. 

I figured Dave would set some stuff up in our little tree clearing, so I headed that way, smiling when I saw the cheesy, tattered checkered blanket that was laying out under a tree. 

"What, no picnic basket?" I teased, sitting crossed-legged on the blanket and batting my eyelashes at Dave, who stuck his tongue out at me. 

"Nope, just sack lunches, but hey. I did my best with what I was given. And…" Dave drew the word out, pulling a half-empty bottle of moonshine out of his bag with a flourish. "I brought refreshments." 

I rolled my eyes fondly, letting Dave dole out the food and pretty successfully ignoring the bottle, if I do say so myself. It was a pretty day, if a bit cloudy and windy, but I would take this over a stormy ditch any day. 

"Man, the food here does suck," Dave mumbled, his mouth half-full of a bite of sandwich. "What I wouldn't do for a burger right now." 

I coughed out a laugh, almost choking on my own food. "A burger? That's it?" 

Dave nodded, dead serious. "Uh, duh. Come on, you can't tell me you don't love a good plain old burger with-" 

"Plain?!-" 

"With two pickles, you dick. Don't diss my favorite food." Dave threw his crust at me, and I giggled, still finding that hilarious.

"Of all the food in all the world, you choose a burger. The spice in you is in the subzero levels now, my love." 

Dave pretending to pout, turning away from me in mock-anger. "I'm from Dallas, what did you expect? What's your favorite food, mister class and sass?" 

"Ossobuco, beef bourguignon, anything Thai…" 

"Fine, you win the spice contest, nerd. I don't know what any of that even means." 

We fell into a fit of laughter, ending up laying down opposite one another, with the tops of our heads facing each other and our hands interlocked. 

"What's your favorite song?" 

I hummed, really not knowing. "I dunno, I like a lot of songs. What's yours?" 

"The man who shot liberty valance, it's by Gene Pitney." 

I was silent for a moment, trying to think of any old song by that name, but I was coming up blank. "Sing some of it." 

Dave chuckled, clearing his throat. "I'm not very good, but okay," he coughed. "Here goes." 

His voice was deep and rumbly, and even though he wasn't the best singer, he could at least carry a tune. "'Just trying to build a peaceful life, where love is free to grow. But the point of a gun was the only law that Liberty understood.' Anyway, it's from a movie too, with this actor named John Wayne, and it's pretty good, too. You ever seen it?" 

I rubbed my hand over the top of his head, ruffling his hair everywhere. "Whoa there, cowboy, when were you gonna tell me you could sing?" 

I could tell Dave was blushing, and he smacked my hand away playfully, interlocking our fingers once more. "Be quiet, I'm mediocre at best. But if I hear it on the radio I'll tell you so you can hear it; it's just a fun little song. The movie's good, though. You'd probably like John Wayne." 

For the life of me I couldn't think of what a young John Wayne looked like, so I just made a sound of agreement, fiddling with Dave's hand and watching the leaves above us sway in the wind. It was so peaceful here, and I was a little bit sleepy, dozing in and out of that half-sleep that was more relaxing than the actual sleep itself. Dave was still humming, and the weather was nice, and I couldn't remember the last time I'd been this content with my life. 

"Hey, Klaus, can I ask you something?" 

Dave's voice drew me back to consciousness, and I mumbled, still half-asleep. But Dave sat up, and I sighed, sitting up with him and pulling my knees to my chest. 

"You interrupted my nap," I pouted, and Dave blew me a kiss, before clearing his throat again and grabbing my hand. Dave looked nervous, which was rare for Dave, and I studied his expression, wondering what was making him think so hard.

"Everything okay?" I asked, bumping him with my shoulder. Dave ran a hand through his hair, his other hand still fiddling with mine. 

"I got a letter from my mom today, and I've been waiting for weeks to see what she'd say about something." 

I nodded, running my hand through his hair so he'd stop doing it. The repetitive motion was a sign that Dave was worried. 

"And?" I promoted, raising my eyebrows. "What did she say?" 

Dave searched my face for something for a long moment before nodding, fishing around in his jacket pocket and finally handing me a letter. I didn't take it. 

"Are you sure? That you want me to read it?" Dave had never let me read one of his letters before, and while he told me almost everything his mom said, I still never asked to see the letters. We had almost no privacy in the camp, and I wanted Dave, at least, to have a little semblance of personal and emotional space. 

"I want you to read it," Dave smiled, but didn't meet my eyes. He almost seemed embarrassed. "And I think she would, too." 

I shrugged, taking the letter and holding Dave's hand as I unfolded it. I was still kind of sleepy, but it had been a long time since I'd heard anything a mother had to say, and I was intrigued. 

_My dearest David,  
You'll be glad to hear that it's finally starting to look like fall around here. Your little cousins came over earlier this week and we all carved pumpkins on the porch; worst decision I've made yet, I still can't wash all the seeds off of everything! _

_I hope everything is going okay over there, or at least as well as possible for what it is. Just know that I am so, so proud of you, and I can't wait to hear from you again._

_I'm also glad to hear that Klaus is doing well! But tell that boy I said he'd better stop skipping out on dinner duty to be with you; you know how I feel about chores. Everyone's gotta do 'em, hon. It builds character._

_As for the dog tags, I think that is a fantastic idea! I'll admit I did cry a little when I read what your idea was, but then again, I cry every time you write me. You have the biggest, kindest heart of anyone I know, and I know your father would be just as proud of you as I am._

_Give Klaus my love, and please, no matter what, stay safe. The world is better with you in it, my darling boy. I can't wait to see you again and make you the best damn burger Texas has ever seen._

_I love you the most,  
XOXO  
Mom ___

__

__I stared at the letter for a long time, not rereading it but just holding on to that feeling of parental love that was so foreign to me. Dave's mom loved him so much, and seemed to love me from only his descriptions, and that was crazy to me. No one's parents had ever loved me, ever. I was the bad influence, the stoner boyfriend, the sissy, the pussy, the queer. But whatever Dave had told his mom, she seemed to like me, and I needed that feeling more than I had ever thought I would._ _

__I handed the paper back to Dave, and he carefully folded it back into his pocket as I sniffled a bit. I wiped at my eyes, and Dave didn't say anything, but he was surpressing a smile._ _

__"What's your idea?"_ _

__"Hmm?" Dave froze, clearly feigning nonchalance, and I stared at him even more intently._ _

__"With the dog tags. That your mom thinks is a great idea. What is it?"_ _

__Dave was blushing again, and he let out a sigh, almost seeming as if he were steeling himself for something._ _

__"I didn't think any good would come of this war, but I'm so glad I enlisted. I don't think I ever would have met you if I hadn't, and that would be a damned shame, because you're the best person I've ever met in my life."_ _

__I blinked a few times, surprised by his statement. I knew how strongly Dave felt about serving, and how he thought it would make him more respectable, more of a man, if he enlisted. I'd told him what I thought of that already, but I also knew that he did regret it. He'd told me that within days of us being together, and while Dave didn't get drunk often, he got honest when he did._ _

__But Dave wasn't finished. Fiddling with the dog tags around his neck, Dave smiled, looking down at our intertwined hands. "One day, we're gonna leave, one way or another, and I want you to have these when we do." Dave looked up at me, vulnerable, honest, and with so much love in his eyes it almost hurt me to look at him. My eyes pricked, and I wiped whatever tears were there away, unable to tear my gaze away from Dave's._ _

__"I want you to have them, as a promise, and as a placeholder." Dave was halfway crying now too, his eyes glistening wide and blue. "Because so help me God, Klaus Hargreeves, one day I'm gonna marry you. No, that's not a proposal," We both laughed, wiping at our faces. "But it is a promise. Or a threat, however you see it."_ _

__"Definitely a threat." I coughed, and kissed Dave's knuckles, laughing again at his splotchy face. "You're such a sap and I love you so much because of it."_ _

__"Shut up," Dave sniffled, rolling his eyes._ _

__"And thank you." I smiled for real this time, not teasing him anymore. "For letting me read your letter, and for that promise. I can't wait to disappoint your mom with how many chores I can truly skip out on in my life."_ _

__Dave pushed me over, laughing despite his fond annoyance, and I kissed him, wishing we could leave for Texas right now. I didn't believe that I was the best person Dave had ever met, but he certainly was the best person I had._ _


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is from when Klaus first lands in Vietnam, and is partially based off one of my favorite scenes in the whole show, the disco scene!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoy this one! I'm gonna start wrapping this fic up soon, but if you're interested, I will be posting a new one soon after this, possibly having to do with a new set of seven heros...

I was terrified. I couldn't remember being this terrified since the mausoleum dad put me in, and that was saying a lot. I was handed a pair of pants, an army jacket, and a gun that was way too big, and why were they handing me a gun, anyway? I hadn't been trained to shoot a gun, and hell, even if I had, I'd have forgotten it by now anyway. We were all herded onto a bus, and a man was barking out orders and scaring the daylights out of me the whole time. I had the briefcase, but I saw all the good that did me before, and wasn't about to open it again. 

Thankfully, that first day, I hadn't had to shoot the gun. I was the new recruit, clearly, and they had me on the back lines the whole time, which was fine by me. I had been shaking since I got here, and I knew I was on the edge of a nervous breakdown. The bus ride back was too bumpy, and too dark, and I was scared shitless in the middle of a war I knew shit for dicks about. 

"This seat taken?" 

I looked up, and it was the man from before, Dave. The one with the kind eyes and the pretty smile. I gestured for him to sit down, and he did, his shoulder brushing mine and sending a tingle through my arm.

"Klaus, right?" 

I couldn't help but smile at him, cause god, he was so pretty and even scared shitless, I knew what I liked. "Uh, yeah. And it's Dave?" Dave nodded, glancing out the window next to me. 

"Looks like there's gonna be a pretty nasty storm tonight." 

I nodded, even though I hadn't really noticed. Now that he was sitting next to me, I could feel how warm he was, and he smelled good, somehow, even though we'd all been in a muddy field all day. He had a slight southern accent, and I wondered where he was from. America, clearly, but still. 

"So, uh, Dave," I started, figuring I might as well make small talk with attractive people while I was here. "Where are you from?"

Dave smiled, and oh, no, I could see myself falling for this man already. He had an easy-going way about him, and his eyes twinkled and was I staring at his mouth? Shit. 

"West Virginia, although my family moved to Dallas a few years back. How bout you?" 

I chuckled, forcing myself to try and appear normal. "Oh, here and there, you know. Way north of there, though." 

Dave nodded, seeming amused. "I would have expected that, too, except you're shivering. Aren't y'all used to the cold and the rain?" 

Giving a half-hearted shrug, I made a conscious effort to try and make my body stop shaking. It didn't work, but at least I'd tried. 

"Hey, so me and some of the guys are going to the club in town later for some drinks." Dave was studying me curiously, and I realized I must have seemed terrified to everyone around me, as well. "Wanna join?"

I knew I shouldn't say yes, knew I should be trying to find a way home and figuring out what the hell was up with that briefcase. But quite honestly, I was exhausted, and the only thing I'd accomplished in the last week was collectively pissing off all my siblings and getting tortured by two maniacs who were looking for Five. I was in desperate need of fun-and a drink-so I smiled hesitantly back at Dave and said, "Sure, why not. Thanks for the invite." 

"Great! See you there." Seeming pleased, Dave cupped my shoulder, squeezing it once before heading back to his seat, and I held on to that fleeting warmth, missing his comforting presence already. 

By the end of the day, I'd discovered a few things. To start with, this war was apparently the Vietnam war. The Vietnam war. In 1967. This was the 173rd airborne birgade, stationed in the A Shau Valley, and there were twelve of us soldiering together in this location. They called us the Sky Soldiers. I'd also figured out that the briefcase didn't have a combination lock after all, but I wasn't about to mess with that thing again. I hid it under my bunk when we returned to camp, promising myself I'd try to figure out how to get myself back to 2019 tomorrow. 

It was only six when I'd finished stowing away the briefcase, so I figured I'd look around town, wandering around the shops until a suitable time to go join the rest of the men at the club. I'd been given a weekly allowance, and while it wasn't much, I bought a few shirts and pants anyway, flirting my way into a way better price than I deserved. I somehow even got some shoes for free, and it made me wonder if Allison did this same thing to get what she wanted, when she wasn't rumoring people. Were all of the Hargreeves siblings secret con artists? 

Once I'd changed into relatively normal 60's attire, I headed for the address one of the guys had given me, trying to decide if I was hoping Dave would be there already or not. I had decided I was when I heard a voice call out to me, and I hated the hope that was already making me whip around in excitement. It was Steven, one of the few other newer recruits I'd been introduced to, and I waved, hoping he hadn't caught my flicker of disappointment. 

"Hey, Hargreeves," he called, jogging to catch up with me. "Headed to the Caravelle?" 

I nodded, slowing down to fall into step next to him. "You?" 

"Yeah, there's nothing much else to do on Fridays around here." Steven liked to talk, which was fine by me, because that meant I didn't have to. The less I talked, the less I'd accidentally give away, and I'd prefer these soldiers not to know that I was a time traveler. They already thought I was weird and I'd only been here for two days. 

I tried not to seem like I was looking for someone when we reached the bar, but I knew how bad I was at being inconspicuous.

"Ohhh," Steven drew the word out, winking at me. "I see why you're here. Well, look no further, recruit." He gestured to the bar, where a few already-drunk women were giving us looks. I smiled back, and followed Steven to where they were sitting, but I couldn't see Dave through the crowd of people so far. 

We all had a round of drinks, and it was a good thing I loved music because I knew just about every 60s hit they were playing on the radio. I loved to dance as well, and seeing as all the girls were drunk and Steven was clearly a lightweight, it was a fun experience all around. I was just jamming, doing my thing, when I stepped back directly into another person who was also dancing. I turned around, going to apologize, when I saw that warm smile. 

"Watch it, newbie," Dave grinned, clearly messing with me, and I panicked and did a weird mock-boxer, 'why I oughta' motion with my fists. Dave found it hilarious, luckily, and nodded his head towards the bar. I followed him to two open stools, and couldn't help but look at his ass as we sat down. No one could blame me for liking what I saw. 

"Glad you found the place!" Dave's voice was slightly raised so I could hear him, and I raised the glass the bartender slid me. 

"Thank Steven." We looked over to where Steven was hitting it off with just about all the ladies, and Dave chuckled, raising his glass as well.

"To Steven, then." 

I knocked back the drink I'd been given, and Dave's eyes widened as he choked a little bit on his own drink. "I didn't know you could—" he coughed, waving his hand in my general direction. "That's straight rum." 

I shrugged. "Whaaaat eww, it's so bad." I pretended to hate it, being dramatic and feigning it burning my throat, and Dave choked again, laughing and sputtering and probably not even realizing how adorable he was being. I couldn't stop staring, and he was staring back just as intently, and I was almost relieved when a girl grabbed his arm and held his attention for a moment. I hadn't breathed since we'd made eye contact. 

The tension ended up being way too much for me, so I jumped off the stool, bumping Dave with my shoulder as I did. "Wanna do shots?" 

I pulled him along before his smile could make me suffocate again, because I'd decided, fuck it, I needed to be drunk to flirt in a war. Was I flirting? I didn't even really know at this point, but it'd been a long, long time since anyone made me feel the way Dave was making me feel. It'd been so long, in fact, that I couldn't even remember it ever happening before. I had butterflies in my stomach and that was a cliche I had thought was absolutely fake, made up by people who thought settling down was their best option and needed a lie to tell themselves.

We did a few solo shots, catching up with Steven and some of Dave's other friends at one point, but somehow, eventually, Dave asked if I wanted to link arms and do a shot. 

"Isn't that German?" I giggled, and Dave shrugged, picking up his shot glass and sloshing a little over the side. 

"No idea, I've just seen it in movies. Looks fun, come on!" So I obliged, and we both spilt half of the shot down our faces, laughing like idiots the whole time. Our arms were still resting together on the table, and Dave used his other hand to wipe the alcohol off of my chin, his thumb brushing over my lip a few times. We were both well beyond drunk, but I could've felt the chemistry between us if I'd never had a drink in my life. 

Dave seemed to have a similar idea, and led us over to a quieter corner of the bar, where the lights were more dim and the music less bass-y. There were streamers on either side of us, and though I'd never been a fan of small spaces, this was cozy and intimate and perfect for having a quiet conversation. 

"Are you having fun?" Dave's voice sounded much more normal over here, where he didn't have to shout to be heard. It was low and deep and soothed the nerves I'd suddenly started to feel. 

"Absolutely. Are you?" 

Dave leaned against the wall, his eyes searching my face. "I am, especially with you. You're a lot of fun." 

I brushed his compliment off, looking at the floor and smiling, and Dave reached up, running a hand through my hair and causing me to lift my head. His eyes widened a bit, as if he hadn't meant to do that, and now he was blushing, too. 

"Sorry, I—" 

"No, no, you're fine! I just—

We both laughed, tripping over each other's failed apologies, and I leaned against the wall next to him, slightly dizzy in the best way possible. 

"I really like this bar," I slurred my words a bit, dreamily studying Dave's jawline. "Good music, good lighting, good booze, good—" 

"Are you gay?" Dave blurted out, seeming as shocked as I was that he'd said that out loud. I couldn't contain my sputtering laugh, and I gestured over myself dramatically, very amused. 

"Well, I mean, obviously," I shrugged, leaning back against the wall. "I'm actually pansexual, though." 

Dave's eyebrows furrowed, but his face was still beet-red. "What's that mean? Like bisexual?" 

"Ehh," I shook my head. "Kind of. It just means gender doesn't make a difference to me, I just like people for who they are." Dave still seemed a bit lost, but nodded anyway, refusing to make eye contact with me now. 

"Are you?" I asked, my voice quiet. "Gay, I mean?" 

Dave scratched at his neck, seeming a little uncomfortable, so I held up my hands, trying to reassure him. 

"Hey, hey, it's okay! You don't have to tell me, if you don't want." 

Slowly, gradually, Dave finally looked me in the eye again, and at least this time he was smiling, if a bit hesitantly. "Yeah, sorry, yeah. I am. I'm just not very used to telling people yet, y'know?" I nodded, because I absolutely did know. "It's still sort of new to me, too, so bear with me here." 

I grinned, nudging him with my shoulder. "Hey, take your time. I've known since I was like 8, but then again, I've always been a person who knows what they want." 

Dave laughed, and the look was back in his eyes, that spark that was making my stomach do flips I'd never felt in my life. 

"If you haven't noticed, I've been hitting on you since you got here." 

I widened my eyes, putting on an innocent look. "Who, me? When? I never even noticed." 

Dave rolled his eyes, still smiling. "Very funny. But seriously, you're gorgeous. It's not fair to the rest of us." 

It was my turn to turn red, and I looked away, embarrassed. "I'm flattered, but that's not true. I'm just odd and different and—" 

When Dave lifted his hand again, I paused, and he ran it through the side of my hair, stopping this time with his fingers splayed against my head and his palm almost on my cheek. His hand was so warm, and I involuntarily leaned into his touch, needing to get as close to him as I could. 

His thumb grazed against my cheek, and if he’d meant to shut me up, it worked. I couldn’t stop my gaze from wandering to his mouth, and Dave leaned in, his breath warm and sweet and tinged with liquor. He seemed to pause for permission, so I leaned the rest of the way in, and my head spun. We didn’t make out, really, but we did keep kissing for a long time, and it was, for lack of a better way to describe it, sweet. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a ‘sweet’ kiss, and this was the last place I’d ever expect to have one. 

Dave leaned back, smiling and taking a sip from the drink I had been holding. “You’re good at that.”

“So I’ve been told,” I smirked playfully, but I could tell I was blushing just as hard as Dave was. If this was what having a crush felt like, then okay, I got the hype. I felt alive, for the first time in a long time, and it was just my luck that it was because of a soldier in the Vietnam war.

I hadn’t planned on sticking around in 1967 for very long, but maybe I ought to give it a week or so, before I really decided. Don’t knock it til you try it, as they say.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly I am going to start wrapping this one up pretty soon; this is probably one of the last few chapters, and probably another one of my faves to write! Feel free to still leave suggestions in the comments; I love hearing back from you guys! 
> 
> Enjoy!

I had never told Dave my birthday, and I genuinely had no idea how he found out. I woke up one semi-cold morning to find him standing over me with a cupcake that had a single candle stuck in it, grinning like the goofy idiot he was. 

"Wow, dessert for breakfast, what's the occasion?" I rubbed my eyes, playing dumb for fun, and Dave rolled his eyes as he always did when I said something snarky. 

"A certain someone's thirtieth birthdaaaay," Dave drug the word out, not stopping until I took the cupcake from him and sat up. I just looked at it amusedly, if a bit sleepily, shaking my head and tsk-ing at him. "I have no idea what you're talking about." 

Dave bumped my shoulder, taking a book of matches from his pocket and lighting one as he spoke. "Oh, come on. Have some fun, you only turn thirty once." He lit the candle, fully ignoring my glance of wry amusement, and gestured for me to blow it out. "Make a wish." 

"Spoilers, it's for you not to sing to me." I blew the little flame out, and Dave clapped, plucking the candle from the cupcake and gesturing for me to eat it. I took a bite, and it was good, I had to admit. 

"I haven't had birthday cake in, god, decades. I think the last birthday I ever really celebrated was my eighteenth, and, well, it wasn't with cake." 

Dave shoved me, groaning, and I smirked as I took another bite. "Where'd you get this, anyway?" I mumbled, mouth full. 

"I made it." 

I stopped chewing, my eyebrows raised. "Really? It's good." 

"Don't seem so surprised," Dave teased. "What do you want to do for your birthday?" 

I shrugged. "Hang out with you." 

Dave gave me a bored look. "Come on, there's gotta be something you want to do." He saw me pointedly look him up and down, shoving me once more. "Stop being nasty and think of a fun thing to do for your birthday party." 

I finished the cupcake off, liking my fingers and sticking my tongue out at Dave. "You do realize I grew up in a house where my dad didn't believe in birthdays, my mom was a robot, and I shared the day with six other kids, right?" Dave pouted, but I just shrugged, giving him a quick kiss. "I love that you want to make it a big deal, but it really never has been for me. It's just a day that I can tick off as one year closer to my impending doom." 

Dave shook his head, seeming to search my face for a sign that I was lying, but I wasn't. I'd never cared about my birthday; Ben had once told me that I was enough of a narcissist already without a whole day being dedicated to me. Diego had said something similar, about how I made every day about me anyway, so why should a birthday be any different? 

I missed them a lot today, that much I'll admit. I missed when we were kids and Grace would make us all a cake, half chocolate and half vanilla and Vanya would help her decorate it all nicely, and we'd give each other shitty presents that we'd made and it was one of the best days every year. Reginald did nothing except give us the day off of training, but it was enough, and half the time we'd all sneak out to Griddy's anyway and get so hyped up on coffee and sugar that we didn't sleep for days. 

"Well, I want to give you a real birthday, so deal with it. Come on, I have an idea." 

I let Dave pull me out of bed, pretending to fight him but genuinely curious as to what his idea was. There wasn't much to do in Saigon, besides drink, and I knew Dave wasn't taking me to do that. I was even more confused as we walked into a shady, bar-like establishment, and when Dave caught my eye, I raised my eyebrows. 

"I'm honestly fine just hanging around camp, babe. We don't have to do anything, any of-" I waved my hand around. "This." 

Dave smiled softly, giving my hand a squeeze. "I know. And we're not. I'm far more creative than that." He winked, and kept leading me through the bar, or whatever it was, until we reached another room, this one shedding light on what his plan had been. Art lined the walls and tables of this room, and there were small books of past work sitting on the tables, spread open to various pages. I turned to Dave, grinning from ear to ear. 

"Really? You're taking me to get a tattoo?" 

Picking up one of the books, Dave smiled sheepishly. "You don't have to get one, obviously, but you mentioned something about getting our brigade on your arm. I figured it'd be fun to look, either way." 

I hadn't stopped smiling, and I turned to look at the designs on the wall before Dave could see the tears in my eyes. The last time I'd actually done anything for my birthday was before Ben died; after that, no one really wanted to try and celebrate arbitrary holidays together anymore. I didn't blame them, but those birthdays together were always something that bonded us, a silver lining to a gray year, year after year. It wasn't long before I was a full-fledged mess, and I hadn't been lying to Dave; the only thing I ever received on my birthday from then on out was alcohol, drugs, or sex, and that was only when I even remembered it was my birthday. Most days flew by in a blur, and even if I had remembered it was my birthday, half the time I woke up two days later with no memory of what had happened at all. 

This was the first time someone had cared enough to do something for me on my birthday in over a decade. 

Dave walked up behind me, studying the wall in front of us. “Hmm.” He pointed to one of the drawings, almost having to stand on his toes to reach the right one. “What about this one?”

I considered it. The drawing was of a skull, with some leaves and a rifle behind it, and I nodded, actually thinking it looked pretty cool. “I could ask for the brigade above it or something.”

“Or sky soldiers?”

I nodded, plucking the drawing from the wall and leading the way over to one of the men who were at the front of the store. He got everything set up as Dave paid, despite my protests, and before long I was sitting on the table. I smiled down at Dave, who looked nervous and kept eyeing the sketch on my arm. 

“Are you sure that’s not gonna hurt too much? It really hasn’t been that long since it healed…”

I reached over and ruffled his hair, causing him to swat at me as it got in his eyes. “You’re so annoying.”

I blew him a kiss. “I know,” I smirked. “Love you too.” 

The man returned with the freshly cleaned needles, and he looked at me for permission to start. I held my arm slightly away from my body, not even blinking when he began. It was hot, and tingled, and I guess it hurt but I’d become so accustomed to needles in my life that this didn’t even phase me. 

Dave was watching out of what was clearly only morbid curiosity, and I caught his eye, giving him an easy smile and a waggle of my eyebrows. He returned it with a flash of teeth and an eye roll.

“I forget that you already have four tattoos or something. This is probably nothing.”

I did my best to shrug with one shoulder, but the tattoo artist quickly shot me a warning glare. “It’s not nothing, but then again, I am well versed in needles of multiple sorts.”

Dave gave me a withering stare, and I chuckled, remembering that not everyone had a completely fucked up sense of humor. He held my hand anyway, obviously trying not to look at my arm but doing a very bad job at it. I knew it was probably bleeding a little, and despite being a literal soldier, Dave was still uncomfortable around things like this. It was just another thing I loved about him.

Once the guy bandaged my arm, we were on our way, and I held Dave’s hand as we walked back into Saigon. 

“Still doesn’t hurt?”

I shook my head, swinging our arms a bit just to showcase that I was telling the truth. And I was; this was probably my third most-painful tattoo, and the ones that had hurt the most still didn’t hurt all that much. 

“So…” Dave gave me a mischievous look, raising an eyebrow. “We’ve still got some time before the guys are back from town…”

This time, I rolled my eyes, but that didn’t mean I didn’t pull Dave quicker down the path back to town, and to our camp, where our beds awaited. 

We went back to town a while later, wandering the streets and just talking, avoiding the main roads and loudness of the bars scattered throughout the city. I think that was the one thing that really showed me that I loved Dave as much as I thought I did; never before had I liked anyone enough to talk endlessly with them for hours about nothing. 

“Best birthday, go.”

I didn’t even have to think about it. “My 13th birthday. We all baked our own cake that year and nearly burnt the house down, and I’d never seen Grace so stressed out. We made a royal mess of it and probably all got salmonella from eating so much uncooked batter, but it was awesome. Ben told us we’d all regret it, and we did in the morning to be fair, but he ate just as much as the rest of us. Allison did my hair and Diego got me a badass jacket and Five ate so many marshmallows and chocolate chips that he almost threw up and ruined the whole party.” I smiled wistfully, trying not to get sad but sort of failing. “That was our last birthday with Five.”

Dave was smiling, too, and squeezed my hand a little tighter at the last part. “I’m sorry.”

I brushed it off, shaking my head and returning to my normal tone. “Thanks, but he’s back now, so yay I guess. Plus Five kind of always hated birthday parties, anyway.”

Frowning, Dave said, “Surely not. He was probably just trying to seem cooler than you guys.”

That’s what I’d always thought, too. Five and Diego in particular always pretended not to be interested in “childish” things like that, but they didn’t fool anyone. Five had a sweet tooth and could usually only count on birthdays for a sugar rush and Diego loved getting presents. 

We walked in silence for a bit, and I hummed a song as we did, spinning around and play-dancing with Dave every once in a while. I loved his laugh, and how he was equally as silly as I was, and how his smile made my stomach do a flip every time, even after all these months.

“Do you miss your family?”

I paused my humming, my laugh sounding forced even to me. “Sure, as much as anyone misses their six adopted pain-in-the-ass siblings.” Dave saw right through that, and I sighed, avoiding his eyes. “Yeah, okay, I do, but I’ve missed them for years. I haven’t seen a lot of them since Allison’s wedding, and that was like eight years ago. I guess I miss Ben the most, but do not _ever _tell him I told you that.”__

__Dave laughed, bumping my good arm with his. “I won’t, I promise.”_ _

__We kept walking, and right then, I wished we could keep walking until we found an airport or dock or something and keep on going til we reached Texas. I wanted to meet Dave’s family, and more unbelievably than that, I wanted him to meet mine. Dave was the one thing I could remember being one hundred percent sure about in my life, and I wanted people to know that._ _

__“Hey, thanks, by the way.”_ _

__Dave glanced over, already smiling before I’d even said anything. “What for?”_ _

__“Just,” I waved my hand in his direction. “Being you. Doing this. It means a lot.”_ _

__Dave stopped walking, pulling me to a stop, and put his hands on my shoulders, making sure I looked at him as he spoke. “Klaus, you don’t have to thank me. I like doing this kind of stuff; I like having you here to do things for.” I looked down, smiling despite being embarrassed, but Dave lifted my chin, resting his hand on my jaw._ _

__“You’re the best person I’ve ever met. I’ve said that before, but I’ll remind you, as many times as it takes, until you believe it. I love you.”_ _

__I kissed him, then, because it was either that or cry. One thing I’d learned about moderate sobriety was that I felt emotions very, very strongly, and one universal tool for showing all emotions was crying. I hated crying, and thus, hated showing any sort of feeling for fear that I’d just burst into tears. Dave made me want to burst into tears in the absolute best way possible._ _

__When we broke apart, Dave wiped something off my cheek. “God _dammit, _” I muttered, wiping at my eyes and causing Dave to double over laughing.___ _

____“You tried really hard not to, didn’t you?”_ _ _ _

____I glared at him, sniffling, and he kissed me again, his lips smiling against mine. “Happy birthday, you weirdo.”_ _ _ _

____I smiled back, closing my eyes and promising myself that this was only the first of many, many cheesy birthdays with Dave. We kissed in that back alley of Vietnam and pretended the world didn’t have problems that we were too insignificant to solve, and that, above all else, was what made a birthday great._ _ _ _


	9. Chapter 9

For some reason I’d assumed that everywhere in the world started to feel like Christmas once December rolled around. That wasn’t true in the slightest, apparently; our area remained in the mild 70’s and 80’s, and it was dry, cloudy, and joy was scarce between the troops despite the ceasefire we were now under. 

To make matters worse, Dave had gotten sick with a cold or the flu, and was fighting off a fairly high fever and assigned to bedrest for the next two days. He was hardly coherent, and I stayed in the sick bay with him Christmas eve night, ignoring the warnings from the medics that he was still considered to be contagious despite the antibiotics he’d been given.

It was well after midnight when Dave started mumbling, waking up for the first time in hours. I had started to get seriously worried that he wouldn’t wake up at all, so when I finally saw his eyes flutter open, I let out the biggest sigh of relief I’d ever heard.

“Hey, how ya feeling?” I was whispering for some reason, despite being nearly alone with Dave, save for a few temporary patients who had minor wounds being attended to. They were separated from us by curtains, since Dave was contagious and all, and sound seemed to fall flat within seconds without room to echo.

Dave blinked up at me, his eyes shining bright against his flushed face. “Thirsty,” he rasped, and I held a canteen up to his lips, supporting his head with my hand as he drank. Water spilled down his chin and onto his chest, but he barely seemed to notice, nearly chugging the entirety of the canteen’s contents in a few gulps. He collapsed back against the pillow, gasping, and I smoothed his sweaty hair down in an attempt to calm his agitation. Dave's eyes rolled back a little, and I knew he was mostly still out of it, but I still smiled whenever his eyes would land on me. 

"I'm staying here with you, it's okay. Go back to sleep." I leaned over and kissed his forehead—which was burning to the touch—and Dave let out a little huff of air, his body relaxing once more. 

This was one of the first times since I'd met Dave that he seemed to really need me there. Dave was frequently emotionally vulnerable, but not so much physically—he was usually the one worrying about me getting injured or sick or things of the like. I'd built up a considerable amount of muscle in the last eight months, but it hadn't changed my scrawny frame; I'd never grow out of that. Dave was just built stronger, with more muscle and more experience and more ground for intimidation. 

So seeing him lying on this cot, his breaths shallow and sweat beading around his lips and his mumbled cries hurting my heart, was all a bit much for me. If I was remembering correctly, Dave might have been the first person I'd ever taken care of in my whole entire life. 

A couple of hours went by, and to anyone else, this may have been boring to the point of insanity. But one thing I’d learned about soldiers since being here was that they were patient beyond belief. You had to learn patience on the field, where talking was prohibited and adrenaline was high. You had to learn how to live in your head, and how to make your head some place you didn’t mind being for hours, days on end. I had a difficult time with this for obvious reasons, so my coping skill was to just pretend I wasn’t in my head at all. I thought of memories or scenarios where I’d rather be, willing myself to create narratives that would happen in the future. I thought a lot about Dave and I’s future, in particular; I thought about marrying him, about buying a house or apartment together and whether we would adopt pets or kids or both. I thought of what we’d name them, of how many things I could cook for Dave that he’d certainly never tried before. I thought a lot about how good it would feel to finally be able to not live in constant fear for our lives.

I must've dozed off at some point, because when Dave coughed, I jumped awake, immediately alert and on guard. Dave was smiling blearily up at me, and I was relieved to see that he looked even a hair better than he had before. 

“Merry Christmas,” Dave whispered, and I chuckled quietly, raising his knuckles to my lips.

“You’re Jewish, you dork.”

Dave smiled, shrugging half-heartedly. “You’re not.” Dave glanced towards the door, seeming worried, and I kissed his hand, drawing his attention back to me. 

“We’re under a ceasefire. It’s fine; the guys know where we are if they need us. Me,” I corrected, giving Dave a warning look. “You aren’t getting up until you’re better. Don’t even try.”

Even with a cold, Dave looked beautiful, and I wondered if his smile would ever stop making my stomach do that weird flippy thing it’d been doing for months. I distracted myself by giving him another drink, and he did better with it this time, though it still seemed to take all of his energy to lift his head. 

“What time is it?” Dave’s eyes were squeezed shut, and he seemed to be fighting off another coughing fit. 

“Around three,” I answered, and waved off his look of surprise. “I’m fine, I’ve been napping here and there the whole time I’ve been here.”

“You need sleep, Klaus.” Dave’s words were firm, but his tone was faltering, giving away his exhaustion. He kept his eyes closed, and I figured he was falling back to sleep until he spoke again.

“Abby used to make the best latkes for Chanukah,” Dave giggled, and I knew then that the fever was still there and making its presence known. I tried shushing him, but he frowned, swatting my hand away when I tried smoothing his hair down once more. 

“She always pissed mom off because she made everything a little better,” Dave was smiling, and I didn’t want to take this away from him; he’d always loved telling me about his family. “And Hannah and Ru would help me clean up the yard, only we didn’t ever clean it so much as make a mess out of the leaves.”

I didn’t say anything, taking advantage of this rare moment of peace and letting Dave just blabber. We had nowhere to be, nothing to do, and I could allow a few tears to leak out of my eyes without Dave worrying if I was sad. Because I wasn’t; I was just sometimes overwhelmed by how much I cared about him, about how much I wanted to meet his mom and sisters one day.

“They all pretended to hate me because I was a momma’s boy.” I laughed at that, sniffling a bit and hoping I didn’t wake Dave back into consciousness. “I was the favorite, though. Always have been. We all got presents, but mom gave me the most gelt. I don’t know if they ever knew that. You can’t tell them.”

I hummed an agreement, watching Dave’s smile relax as he drifted to sleep. It didn’t last long, though; fifteen minutes later, Dave kept talking as if he’d never stopped. 

“They would love you, you know.” I smiled even though Dave’s eyes were still closed. “I never let them paint my nails or do my hair or anything. You said your sisters already did that, so they’d love that about you. Plus you’re funny, and they loved playing pranks on people. You’d get along. You’d have _five sisters. _” Dave seemed to think that was hilarious, erupting into a fit of giggles and moving his arm around til he found my hand. The tears were back, and I wiped them away as they came, wondering if Dave even realized he was speaking as if we were already married. I knew he didn’t; he’d be so embarrassed of slipping up, despite it making my night.__

__“Tell me about your family’s Christmasses.” Dave sighed, out of wind for the time being, and I spoke softly, hoping to lull him back to sleep. He needed rest if he was ever going to get better, and he wasn’t resting if he was feverishly laughing at his own stories._ _

__“We didn’t really do Christmas. Grace would let us help her decorate, and we didn’t have training on the day of, but it was like our birthdays. We gave each other presents and baked and just kind of hung out together. Reginald was a lot like Scrooge.” Dave hummed, wrinkling his nose, and I stroked my thumb over his hand. “We had fun, though. Vanya was always the best gift giver, and Ben was in close second. They always did the most, and it was the one day of the year Diego and Luther didn’t fight constantly with each other. Even Five had fun, and him, Allison and I were the best at decorating. Obviously.”_ _

__Dave was quiet once more, but I kept talking, living in my memories to pass the time. “They would love you, too. Diego and Ben, especially, since you’re a soldier and you read a lot. Allison would be the most surprised, since you’re so good, and everyone I’ve ever dated wasn’t.” I closed my eyes, imagining them all meeting Dave, and in my mind, we all celebrated Christmas and Hanukkah together and Dave’s family cooked while mine decorated. Ben was alive and somehow our timelines overlapped and I was finally happy, living a normal life and not having to worry about seeing the dead or dying in a warzone I was never supposed to be in in the first place._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this will be my second to last chapter, so I hope you guys enjoy! If I receive any suggestions this weekend for this fic, I'll upload those first, but if not, expect the final brutal chapter to be sometime at the beginning of next week!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will officially be the final chapter of What Happens in Vietnam; it's a heavy one, so please be cautious with triggers regarding death or war-related things in general. 
> 
> I do hope everyone's enjoyed this fic, and I wanted to give a huge thanks to everyone who has left kudos and ESPECIALLY to everyone who has commented; you guys have made me smile so much, and I'm so happy to have written something that brings people some entertainment/happiness! 
> 
> I have another announcement at the end, but for now, I hope you guys have your tissues ready; this chapter was a rough one all around, for obvious reasons.

It was unseasonably cold and bleary as we hiked up hill 689 towards where we were supposed to be stationed today. We were relieving another brigade for the night, and despite it being quiet most of the day, it was still an active zone as of right now. Dave and I were leading our men to the front lines, since this battle had been going on for days now and needed to end. We were both fantastic shots, and good under pressure, so it was obvious who should lead the regimine today. We felt honored; Dave had been in the front lines several times before, but this was only my second time at the head. 

Most of these men had been out here for over a year, and it didn't help that it didn't seem like we were winning anything. We marched into combat, ready to die, and all for what? Our country's honor? At this point, we didn't even really know. War was all we knew, all we ate, slept, and breathed, and it wasn't enough. It would never be enough. War was a beast that could never be satiated, no matter how many lives it took and shattered.

Dave bumped my shoulder as we climbed the hill, giving me a reassuring smile. I smiled and bumped him right back; Dave was the brightest thing out here, what with all the cloud cover and dead shrubbery, and I couldn't stop looking at him. I imagined what he'd look like back in Texas, with a farmer's tan and without fear dulling his eyes, but all I could do was look at him. He was so beautiful. 

Hill 689 was muddy, fear-soaked, and deathly quiet when we arrived. That was the worst part, the quiet. I could practically hear all of our collective heartbeats hammering in our chests; it never got easier, facing this stuff. In fact, it only got worse. 

Once the first shots rang out around us, quiet seemed like a foreign feeling altogether. It was loud, and scary, and I understood now how so many people got PTSD. The sound of bullets hitting flesh, the screams of your fellow soldiers dying around you, it was enough to make any person insane. The smell of gunfire, of blood and fear and dirt and sweat, was so thick that breathing became difficult and clean air seemed like a thing of dreams. The flashing lights, all through a haze of dust and fog and smoke, didn't help anything either. It burned your eyes, burned your lungs and made you want to puke, and the only reason you didn't was the yelled commands of the men shouting around you. It was disorienting, and it was a miracle anyone was hitting anything; in fact, most of our connecting shots were merely accidents and luck alone.

I heard that fateful shot, and I ignored it, although I didn't consciously decide to at that moment. You hear a pop, and then a bullet whizzes by, either going towards you or past you. If it doesn't make the whistle as it flies by, then you've been hit. That's not something they tell you, it's something you learn. I'd learned when my arm got hit, so I should've known. I should've known that since I didn't hear a whistle after the pop, I'd been hit. Only I hadn't been hit. I still should've known. 

No, instead, I ducked down, laughter bubbling out of me as it always did when I got an adrenaline rush. Scary movie, drug high, warzone, it was all the same when you had a textbook response to fear. It was all the same when you were crazy. 

"Christ on a cracker! That was a close one, huh, Dave?" 

"Yeah, too close, Hargreeves." I could hear his response before he said it; he only ever called me Hargreeves on the field. His voice would sound breathless, but still teasing, because it was Dave and Dave could only be so serious, even in an active battle zone. 

The thing was, he didn't say it. 

I should've waited longer before I looked over, wondering why he didn't reply. If I'd waited longer, I could've postponed the inevitable. Isn't that all life was, anyway? Postponing the inevitable? Deep down inside, I knew before I looked over, but by then it was too late. Instincts only made up for so much. 

He was bleeding, and god there was so much blood. I couldn't stop it, I knew that even as I tried, but I had to do something. Dave looked so scared, and he couldn't talk around all the blood in his mouth, and I was already crying, because what else could I do? I was leaking tears while the love of my life was leaking blood all over the ground of a dirty battlefield that he didn't even want to be in, and there was nothing I could do. I yelled for a medic, I begged for him to hold on, but I already knew it was too late. That bright, bright light was fading rapidly, slipping through my hands quicker than the blood, and I kissed Dave's head, pleading to any higher power that he would live. I'd die, gladly, if I was given the chance, if it meant that Dave would be deployed home that instant. 

I cradled his head in my lap, far too long for how many bullets were zipping by me. I didn't care, though; if one hit me, that would be a blessing, because then I could follow right behind Dave in whatever the hell afterlife we ended up in. Heaven, hell, purgatory, none of it mattered to me. I'd experience all three in the span of the ten months I'd been in Vietnam. 

Eventually, and without my cooperation at all, I was dragged off the field. I still had Dave's vest clutched in my hand, and I was crying so hard I couldn't hear the men around me yelling, ordering me to stand up and get back out there. I didn't hear the medics, either, as they finally gathered around us, long after I'd screamed myself hoarse for them. They pried my hand from his vest, and the makeshift tent they had set up smelled like copper and sweat, making me dizzy. I threw up, again and again and again, and no matter how much water they tried to give me, it wouldn't stay down. I kept picturing the hole in Dave's chest, the scared look in his eyes as he stared up at me, lost and confused. Dave didn't get scared; he got anxious, and awkward, and worried and irritated and angry and happy and sweet and sad but Dave didn't get scared. It wasn't fair that his last feeling was fear; Dave deserved so much better. Dave deserved so much better than to die, staring up at me with a look I would never be able to forget, no matter how much I drank. He deserved so much better than to see me, crying and screaming into the chaos around us, desperately wanting to help and being able to do absolutely nothing. 

The medics mostly ignored me, especially since they had actual wounded soldiers being brought in every few seconds, and that was fine by me. That gave me time to look at the table where Dave laid, blankly staring at the ceiling, and you'd think that with all the ghosts I'd seen, I wouldn't have been so afraid of looking at him. But I was, and I looked away again immediately, unable to stand the sight of the man I loved more than anything else in the world being reduced to a body on a medic table. There were more around us, close to a dozen, and I didn't care, even if it was selfish. I was selfish. Dave knew I was selfish, and that wasn't going to change just because he was d- 

I touched his hand, barely ghosting my fingers over his wrist, and shivered. He wasn't cold, obviously, but there was no reaction. I could remember his hands, in my hair, on my face, on my body, but I couldn't remember when I last held his hand. I looked at his arms, still so strong even in death, and couldn't remember when I'd last hugged him. I remembered him bumping me on the way to the hill, and that was it. The last time I touched his arm. His lips were covered in blood, but I forced myself to think of them covered in frosting on my birthday, from a cupcake he made out of whatever he could find in the camp's kitchen. He was so still, and Dave was hardly ever still, a flurry of movement and life and little twitches that made me love him even more.

I couldn't make myself look at his eyes. 

My hand trembled as I reached out, tenderly settling on the place I thought his heart was. There was no beat, no steady drumming that had lulled me to sleep too many nights to count. I felt the coldness of his dog tags, and lifted them gently over his head, kissing them before I put them around my own neck. My hands shook so bad that the tags clinked against the chain, loud despite the noise surrounding the tent.

_"One day, we're gonna leave, one way or another, and I want you to have these when we do. I want you to have them, as a promise, and as a placeholder." ___

__Dave's voice was haunting me more than any ghost ever had, and I laughed again, not caring if the medics thought I was nuts. I was. And Dave was, too, for saying something like that. It was so ironic it was creepy, because we sure were leaving now, one way or another. He'd leave in a body bag, and I'd leave with the briefcase I was now going to find._ _

__I ran the whole way back to our base, hyperventilating and not giving a damn. I was still crying, and I threw up multiple times, screaming as I did. I didn't want to stop. If I stopped, I'd have to think, and if I thought, then Dave's lifeless eyes would be burned into my brain forever. I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't let the last image I remembered of him be one of death._ _

__I found the briefcase, right where I'd left it under my bed, back when I'd first arrived. Back before I had even fallen in love with Dave. It was covered in dust, as was the small bottle next to it. There were three pills in it, and I took two. It was better than all three, and I swallowed them dry, hoping they would numb me to this pain. This pain that was worse than death, worse than getting shot or getting a tattoo or being locked in a mausoleum as a child and forced to see the dead. My chest ached so much that I thought I was maybe finally having a heart attack, and still didn't care. I fumbled with the dials on the briefcase, spinning them back to the day I'd left, and glanced around the room that I'd spent almost every day in for almost a year now._ _

__The room was quiet, like a tomb, and I made myself think of how peaceful Dave had made it seem, since he was never really quiet. He sniffed and giggled and hummed and breathed and I couldn't believe he would never make another sound, never sing or cough or sneeze again. It was a cold, unhappy place, but some of the best memories of my life had been made here. I could still hear Dave's laugh, echoing around the room, giving life to a place that only ever saw death. His smile lit up the walls, made it warm, and I stared at his bed, at the place I'd first seen him when I'd arrived. It was funny how so many things could change in a few months, and how so many could stay the same._ _

__I closed my eyes, remembering Dave here as much as I could stand, and opened the briefcase. It was that easy._ _

__In the blink of an eye I was back on that same bus, in 2019, with people looking at me like I was crazy. I was no longer a number, a soldier, a piece of US property, and I should've felt relieved. Instead, I just felt empty, and dazed, and angry. My whole body itched and my head felt fuzzy from more than the drugs, like my ears were stuffed with cotton. It had been ten months since I'd last felt like this, only this time, it just fueled my anger. I deboarded the bus, still clutching that damn briefcase, and for the first time in a very long time, I got so angry I could've killed someone. It felt good to destroy it, to know that I could never go back to any time period where Dave didn't know me, and for that I was grateful. Knowing me, I would've done something stupid with it. I'd done something stupid with it in the first place, and had my life destroyed because of it. It took from me the only real happiness I had ever known, in the same year it had given it to me._ _

__I didn't regret it, though, no matter how hard I wanted to. Dave was truly the best thing to ever happen to me, no matter if he was dead or not. The best ten months of my entire life had been in the Vietnam war, of all places, and that alone showed just how special Dave was. Who else could have turned the worst place on earth into my own personal safe haven?_ _

__Dave would never have gone along with it, but I still wished I would have used that briefcase to get us both out of there while I still could. I'd sort of been planning on it for a while, if the war didn't start to end soon, but thirty seconds was all it took for my plans to shatter into a million pieces._ _

__Thirty seconds was all it took to break me._ _

__Maybe, someday in the distant future, I could grow from this. Or, at the very least, conjure Dave and live out the rest of my days as the crazy junkie who talks to the ghost of his dead lover. That was perfectly fine with me, so long as I could be with him in some way._ _

__Right now, though, all I had was a heart full of pain, a head full of prescription meds, and the dog tags of a ghost I couldn't even see. Klaus Hargreeves, at his best._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for how depressing that was, but I felt it appropriate to write an agonizing chapter for one of the saddest scenes in cinematic history. 
> 
> In happier news, I have started to work on a new fic, set right when the Hargreeves land in the new sparrow academy timeline! I'll be posting it to this account, probably by the end of this month, and I hope some of you guys will check it out! Again, thanks so much for all your wonderful support; I'll be back with new characters and a brand new storyline soon!


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